Korean War above, ungiving earth beneath,
She laid her weary head upon a stone.
Under a bridge rarely traveled,
Her pain pushed forth small babe's shriek.

The winter wind howled in pitiless demand
As the mother raised her trembling hand,
Wrapping the baby girl in her own clothes
She whispered in dying breath, "You are my rose."

A passerby heard the small babe's gasp,
And took her from the dead mother's grasp.
With tears of joy he ran to his wife,
"For our childless home, a new babe's life."

Father, Mother, child - a happy home,
No longer were they all alone.
Then one day the daughter said,
"Tell me where lies my mother dead?"

Before the grave the girl knelt silent
Then with tears her own clothes rent.
Tenderly placing them on the ground,
"Your life was lost that mine be found."

May we remember a Savior who gave
His life, that we also be saved.
He unclothed, too, upon the cross
Covered our lives, removed the dross.

May we to Christ our own lives give,
For only in giving shall we live.

Based on a true story, this poem was inspired
by an accident that occurred during the Korean War.